


Hydrangeas in Bloom

by Alesiduex



Category: A3! (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, More Characters to be Added Soon - Freeform, Reader is not the MC, Second person POV, also these are super fluff, could be considered platonic, gender neutral reader, i will put a warning before hand, ill also be including izumi sometime soon idk when lol thats what the f/f is for, most of these are inspired by songs, short writings that i dont put much thought into, some of these aren't romantic, sometimes i mention readers gender, these are mostly out of context scenarios idk what to call them lol, unless i specify the relationship between reader and character, you/your
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:35:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24062959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alesiduex/pseuds/Alesiduex
Summary: [reader/various!A3] scenarios/ficlets with your favorite a3 character! I'm only taking character suggestions, so please leave them in the comments if there is someone you want to see next!
Relationships: Hyoudou Juuza/Reader, Ikaruga Misumi/Reader, Mikage Hisoka/Reader, Rurikawa Yuki/Reader, Sakisaka Muku/Reader, Sumeragi Tenma/Reader, Yukishiro Azuma/Reader
Comments: 1
Kudos: 60





	1. Mikage Hisoka

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summer was so very nostalgic, you could never describe the feeling it gave you in words.

There’s a gentle breeze that runs through your hair and tickles against the skin of your face. It carries the scent of flowers and grass, a scent that you’ve found yourself longing for the moment night would eventually fall upon you. Your face is bathed in the streams of light that pours in through the gaps of the tree’s canopy you lie under. Along with the breeze, you could see the tree’s foliage dance along with it, sometimes even witnessing one or two leaves being carried off far out of sight.

Your hand raises and you find yourself reaching out to catch a stray leaf fluttering down closer towards you. 

The soft melodic ring of a nearby wind chime could be heard, your ears perked in response though you never stray your gaze away from the deep, verdant green of the leaf you twirled between your fingers. The glossy surface shines brilliantly in the light of day, causing the green to transition into a green-yellow hue. Another breeze passes and with some reluctance, you allow the leaf to lift away from your grasp and drift along with the wind. Your hand slowly lowers back down, fingers tangling into the blades of grass that conforms to your figure. Your eyes follow its movement for the short time it's in your field of view and the sudden puff of air you feel against the side of your neck reminds you of the presence that slumbers quietly next to you.

His warmth radiates from him in waves and it melds so well with the natural heat of summer that you can’t even tell the difference. Your head tilts slightly to the side, eyes roving across the delicate features of his relaxed visage. Your lips curve into a gentle smile, one that you often reserved for him alone. He faces towards you in his sleep, his hands positioned close to his face. Silver-white hair splays across his face and flutters against his cheek with every puff of air he exhales. He looks far too peaceful in his sleep to earn your disturbance and so you don’t bother attempting to wake him. 

_ He sleeps like a cat _ , that is the lone thought that passes through your head and along with the sway of the leaves; it drifts into nothing.

The buzzing of cicadas soon joins in along with the tinkling of chimes. You turn your head back up to stare at the underside of the tree’s canopy after giving the male lying next to you another fleeting glance. The summer haze of dancing leaves, gently ringing wind chimes, soft breathing of someone sleeping, and the occasional cool wind that graced your warm skin; lulled you into its comforting hold. 

There’s a memory that plays in the shadow of the towering tree above you, one that distantly reminds you of something. It’s hazy and you’re unable to recall it perfectly, but it makes your chest feel heavy with an unknown feeling of longing. You cannot explain the reason why you feel saddened by the thought of forgetting nor can you explain the sudden tears that well at the rims of your eyes.

The lone hand you held at your chest falls to the grass next to you and almost immediately it’s taken up by another. Your head turns back towards the still slumbering figure next to you and the sight of him now cradling your hand between his causes you exhale a huff of amusement. His fingers are warm as they intertwine between your own and you couldn’t help but notice how perfectly they fit together. Soon enough, that unknown feeling washes away and you’re left with nothing but bubbling elation. 

With slowing breath and heavy lids, you allowed yourself to finally succumb to the lullaby of a summer afternoon.

[>inspired by "Sonatine" by Tempalay<](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Aa5onMizfco&list=PLZ5irxlh7BSl9SMP1Y8YpjEeZ4pJYi9-N&index=43)


	2. Sumeragi Tenma

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Winter never treated you well, you disliked the cold.

The bitter cold of winter offers you no reprieve and you begin to lose all feeling in the tips of your fingers. In a feeble attempt to warm yourself up once again, you cup your hands close to your mouth and breathe hotly against them to no avail. There’s a scarf that’s thickly wound around your neck, its color the same pure shade of white that mirrors the fresh snow beneath your feet.

The street you walk upon is coated in a sheet of white and more continuously falls in flurried flakes, decorating the tops of store awnings. The few people who linger around the narrow street lined with shops are dressed similarly to you and you couldn’t help but allow your gaze to linger on their gloved hands in envy.

You shiver in your heavy jacket, a frown permanently situated on your lips at the thought of the chill seeping through your clothes despite the many layers you adorned yourself with. The only thing that was seemingly missing was the pair of gloves that would have undoubtedly given your poor hands more protection against the winter breeze. With another huff of hot air against your fingers, you think of how unfair life truly was.

The boy walking alongside you looks generally unaffected by the cold and you glance at him with a mixture of contempt and wonder. It’s almost no surprise to you that he meets your gaze with a smug look, almost as if he were reveling in your despair. 

“Told you to bring your gloves.” He says and it’s enough to drive a flicker of irritation to burn in your chest.

You huff indignantly, lowering your hands to tuck them under your arms as you snuggle your face deeper into your scarf. “. . .Shut up.” You mumble walking closer to him and making an effort to harshly bump into his side.

“O-Oi!” He falters in his stride and you use this opportunity to quickly shoot out your arms in order to latch onto him. When he regains his footing and attempts to shake you off, you don’t budge and only tighten your grip on him. “. . .What are you doing?”

“Warming myself up.” You answer simply, hugging his arm closer to your chest as your eyes focus on your feet to synchronize your steps with his. “That’s your duty as my boyfriend.”

You pretend to not hear the defeated sigh that escapes his lips and only nuzzle your cheek against the sleeve of his jacket happily when he offers no resistance. You notice almost immediately that your fingers warm up nicely under the combined heat of not only your body but his as well.

The surrounding echoes of winter and playful banter that ensues between the two of you melts away and you focus on nothing other than the warmth that settles in your chest. The boy you clutch onto and peer up with fluttering lashes reminds you of the summer you miss dearly. The color of his hair is reminiscent of the sun and his smile, no matter how smug or arrogant it is, never fails to brighten your day. 

Although you miss the sun and summer days, you find yourself grateful for the bitter cold of winter. At least now you were given an excuse to cling tightly to your own personal sun that was Sumeragi Tenma.

>inspired by ['就寝御礼' by PSYQUI](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mEQZNRT6Pqk)<


	3. Sakisaka Muku

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The rain washes it all away. That's why you love it so.

You love the rain.

The sound of it pattering against the roof of your house brought you a sense of serenity incomparable to anything else. Sometimes it would be accompanied by claps of distant thunder or flashes of lightning, which had only added to the peace rather than demolish it. You loved the rain, but Muku did not.

He was well aware of how skittish he might have seemed to you. Jolting at every flash of lightning, and yelping along with every boom of thunder. He didn’t find the gentle downpour to be as peaceful as you had. He dreaded every moment that passed when the sun wasn’t out and only sheets of water poured from cloudy skies.

He watched you stare out at your backyard through the sliding glass door, your lips pulled into a relaxed smile and eyes drooping with lethargy. You were on the verge of sleeping and he couldn’t understand how when there was the continuous resounding thrums of thunder. The noise alone seemingly shook the walls of your house, yet you never batted an eye at it. It was only him who was disturbed and he didn’t hesitate to scoot closer towards you when he felt his chest constrain with fear.

With one hand balling into a fist at his chest and the other clutching at the back of your shirt, he pulled himself closer to you in search of comfort. You, being the kind person you were, didn’t reject his sudden clinginess; only sparing him a look of distant understanding. Like him, you could never fathom how he couldn’t see the beauty in rain.

You regard him with a smile that differed from the one you wore moments earlier. It brightens your visage and returns a bit of life to your eyes that was once drowned out by sleep. He’s a bit embarrassed to be staring so openly at you, but it was better than focusing on the claps of thunder that sounded off in succession too close for comfort. You don’t say anything, only shrugging half of the blanket that is draped over your shoulders off and slowly covering him with it as well. 

He snuggles into your side, resting his head against your shoulder and emitting a sigh of content. The heavier downpour of rain outside falls on deaf ears and he drowns it out with his focus completely on the warm vanilla scent your clothes give off. The scent alone is enough to fill him with ease and it doesn’t take long to feel the pull of sleep.

As his eyes flutter shut, he feels you place your head against his and the tickle of your breath wisping across the top of his head causes a smile to pick up at the ends of his lips. 

He decides the rain isn’t so bad as long as you’re there with him. 


	4. Ikaruga Misumi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lost in a dense forest with no memory of who or what you are, leaves a specially made void in your heart. Why do you have distant memories of something you cannot recall? 
> 
> yokai au 1/??

Moonlight passes over rolling hills and shines through the gaps of the forest’s thick canopy. The distant cries of owls along with the buzzing of cicadas were the only noises that interrupted the otherwise peaceful silence. There was a breeze that flowed through the woodlands, gently swaying the trees and ruffling the ends of your loose fitting clothes. 

You don’t pay any attention to the sudden drop in temperature that chills the exposed skin of your arms and hands, the sensation serves as a reminder of your lost humanity. You cannot remember the last time you’ve ever seen the light of day. Night was all you knew; the pale shimmer of the moon looming above you was your only companion in these desolate nights.

Fallen branches and dried leaves crunch under your feet as you step out from the treeline and into an open clearing. The moon’s rays are at its brightest now that they aren’t obscured by the thick foliage of the forest and the music of the night, created solely out of natural ambience, became nothing more than a quiet hum. 

You wasted no time in settling yourself down onto the lush grass below, your gaze enraptured by the sight of the glowing moon above you. It shines so prettily along with the twinkling stars and for a brief moment you wish you could join them in the sky. For countless nights, ones you no longer kept count of after a while, you’ve awoken in this very forest with no clue as to who you are or how you ended up in a place as lonely as this. What you do remember, however, is the warmth of the sun that you’ve yet to see but miss so dearly. 

You wonder how long it’s been since you last saw it or felt its blazing kiss against your skin. The cold nights you’ve become so numb to provide no comfort or reprieve and with a withering sigh, you pull your knees up to your chest. Despite your body being as eternally cold as the surrounding night air, you attempt to gather what little heat you possess as a means to recreate the warmth of the sun you distantly recall. 

In the midst of all your accumulating thoughts over your forgotten memories, you’ve never once concerned yourself with why your only memory consisted of the tender glow of the sun.

“What are you looking at?”

With widened eyes and a startled jolt, your head shoots up towards the person now looming above you and effectively blocking the moon’s light. The first thing your gaze is met with is a mask resembling a fox which obscures the identity of the person in front of you. Although his features remain a mystery to you, you could distinctly recognize his voice as one that sounds masculine. It’s tone carries a childish curiosity and overlooking your own initial panic, you almost think it’s somewhat familiar. Clad in darkly colored robes, he stands tall before you and with the added highlight of the moon’s luster, he appears otherworldly. It’s only until your eyes catch a slight flicker of movement behind him that you realize there are a number of tails attached to him, nine to be more specific. He is not human, that is what you've gathered, but for some reason his presence doesn't unsettle you as much as it should.

Your mouth opens, lips forming inaudible words before you stop and place a hand against your throat. Your brows knit tightly together and panic begins to settle deep in your chest in the form of painful twists. With horrifying awareness, you realize that you had _no voice_ to speak with.

The figure above you makes a sound of awe, one that immediately has your attention and when you return your gaze back up to him you’re taken off guard by his blatant lack of personal space. He’s crouched down to your height, his face leaning dangerously close to your own and giving you an unrequested closer look at the mask he wears. It's made of wood, painted white and red, and appears so worn that you’re sure it’s been in his possession for more than a few years. You aren’t given much time to examine it further before the stranger pulls it up and away from his face when he deems it a nuisance in his inspection of you.

Citrine colored eyes that glow ominously in the night beckons your attention and paired with it is a boyish grin that would have otherwise appeared harmless if it weren’t for the overly sharpened set of canines. His tousled hair flutters gently in the wind, it’s periwinkle color barely perceived due to the moonlight that causes it to take on a more silvery hue.

“You’re one of the lost, aren’t you?” 

You open your mouth again in an attempt to speak, though nothing comes out and the hand you rest against the base of your neck slightly tightens. At the lack of a response from you, the male’s excitement only seems to grow. 

“And you’ve had your voice stolen too!” He emits another hum and you watch as his head curiously tilts as his expression changes to reflect his wonder. “I’ve never seen one like _you_ before.”

There are so many things you wish to ask him, mainly all of it pertaining to the reason why he was here. Throughout the many nights you’ve awoken in this forest, you’ve never once come across another being. The thought of finally not being alone anymore was overwhelming as it was, but the fact that he also seemed to have known something about who or _what_ you were was enough to make you curse your inability to speak.

“How long have you been sitting around here?” His sudden question pries you out of your thoughts for a brief moment. “You’re not supposed to be here for too long, you know. Or bad things could happen to you.”

His tone holds a cheery lightness that makes you second guess everything he says as the truth. You were unsure of whether he was toying with you or if his word of warning was meant to be taken seriously. Your expression must have clearly displayed your worry as he was quick to throw in some words of assurance, ones you were apprehensive in trusting.

“Don’t worry,” He placates with a gentle pat to the top of your head. His grin returns to brighten his features and for a reason unknown to you, you find yourself drawn to his jubilation. “That’s why I’m here to help you!”


	5. Yukishiro Azuma

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> you couldn't help yourself, you were just so taken with most beautiful things and he happened to fit your aesthetic.

  
Summer festivals and equally crowded places were never your scene. You preferred the quiet over the bustling crowds and you were definitely never a fan of the stuffy heat of summer nights. Unfortunately for you, this was the season that your job constantly required you to be present in the exact places you wished to avoid.

Tonight, one of the more popular festivals was meant to take place near Veludo, a place you’ve rarely ever visited due to the fact that you tended to stay near Tokyo. It was somewhat refreshing to have a change of scenery even if it weren’t exactly the countryside ideal you dreamed of. It was at least bound to be way less crowded in comparison to the populated streets of Tokyo. 

The ambience of the night was filled with the mixed chatter of the many festival-goers accompanied by the faint buzzing of cicadas. Each breath of air you inhaled carried the scent of fried foods and the tangy smell of the nearby river. You wouldn’t go as far as to call this your most peaceful job venue, being forced to attend crowded events really _weren’t_ your cup of tea, but you could admit it was fairly relaxing.

Unlike your initial assumption of this event being unbearably packed, it was surprisingly not as populated as you thought it would be. Especially after being told by your boss that it was a festival many residents in the area attended. It wasn’t as if you arrived too early either, it was a good two hours in and the fireworks were set to start in thirty minutes. You hoped that you hadn’t shown up at the wrong festival.

With practiced ease, you snaked your way through various yukata clad figures as you murmured insincere apologies. One of your hands held tightly onto the heavy Nikon camera strapped around your neck while your other pressed against the black satchel hanging close to your hip in an effort to press it closer to you. It was only until you neared a small intersection of assorted stalls that you were finally given enough personal space to relax. 

Your lips part and a breathy sigh escapes as you idly glance down at your wristwatch only to be disappointed. There was still a substantial amount of time you still needed to pass before the show. Deciding to waste as much time as you could preparing your camera for the anticipated fireworks event, you lifted your camera slightly up before allowing your fingers to go work. You’ve done this kind of thing so many times that you could adjust the levels and exposure settings without even looking. Still, you could find the magic in routines.

You were prone to be easily taken by things you considered to be beautiful. It was a trait that your boss often joked to be a part of your ‘creative nature’ and you could admit that your interest in aesthetics often distracted you numerous times while on the job. It was a terrible habit of yours, but one that you could also appreciate as it was due to that unique interest that many of your best photos were taken. 

The moment you lifted your gaze from the LCD screen of your camera, you were once more faced with a breathtaking sight. 

There, standing beneath colored glass wind chimes, was possibly the most beautiful man you’d ever seen. Long white hair styled into a loose ponytail which draped over his shoulder and alluringly elegant figure clad in a geometric printed pale blue yukata. Soft yellow light, emitting from the many strung up lanterns lighting the festival path, shrouded him in an almost ethereal glow. His utterly serene appearance was enough to place you into a momentary daze.

You knew your staring was lingering long enough to be considered rude and any more it would start dipping into becoming creepy, but you couldn’t help it. Not when it felt as if looking away for even a second would mean the disappearance of this beautiful man. Your fingers clenched tightly to the heavy camera in your hands, the urge to snap a photo rising with every passing moment. 

It was only until his eyes lowered away from the windchimes he was staring at, hand still outstretched as his fingers grazed the decorative tail end of a multicolored chime. His gaze quickly met yours almost as if he instinctively knew _you_ were the one unabashedly staring at him. The gentle smile that curved at his lips and was displayed in your direction further served to ignite your creative senses.

With a startled blink and an embarrassed flush coloring your cheeks, there was only one passing thought that seemed to feed into your unspoken desire. 

  
You _needed_ to take a picture of him. 


	6. Rurikawa Yuki

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter mentions the reader's gender as female.

_“There was a limit to how extravagant a person could be.”_

That’s what your mother often muttered under her breath when she thought you weren’t paying attention. Your father was much more honest with his opinion of you and he often spoke it as if it were the complete truth. To him, you were wasteful and greedy; a selfish brat who cared for nothing other than herself.

You never paid any mind to their words or actions. It hadn’t once troubled you how poorly your parents thought of you because at the end of it all, the amount of dresses you purchased weren’t at their expense and could never amount to the title of _‘princess’_ you bore.

The one who’d bring your family the glory your father sought would not be your arrogant older brother who believed the world belonged to him, but _you_ ; the daughter who was once believed to amount to nothing more than another pretty face destined to be sold off to some old widowed duke or whoever presented the right amount of money to your father. Yet, you managed to capture the attention of the most influential figure of all: the crown prince, the future king.

You were never sure what it was about you that attracted him to you. You only remembered dancing with him once at a royal ball, sharing a bit of conversation and then the next morning; a request for your hand in marriage arrived in the mail. You could still remember the voracious grin your father wore when he congratulated you that day and you could never forget the sneer your older brother regarded you with. 

Where he was once thought to stand above you in terms of power, you managed to somehow turn the tides in your favor, and in the near future you’d become someone far more influential than he. It undoubtedly irked your brother incessantly to know that his _younger sister_ was someone more important than he’d ever be. 

Though you would normally relish in your brother’s despair, you couldn’t even bring yourself to crack a smug smile. You were well aware that the meaning of marriage to a royal would entail a lifetime promise to a man you could never bring yourself truly love.

You could never love him because you already loved someone else. That person was the man who was responsible for making your dresses, Yuki. While he didn’t belong to a notable noble house, he was still very high in status, just not high enough to ask for your hand in marriage. In a society built on financial prospects and benefits, love had no place and your father never set out with your happiness in mind to begin with.

If the price was right, he’d even sell you off to a slaver.

The point was, your relationship was doomed from the start yet you never once regretted it and you were sure Yuki wouldn’t either. 

* * *

Your hands slightly tremble as they gripped one another and the tiny tears that prickled at the corners of your eyes did not go unnoticed by the man standing before you. He takes your hands into his own, gripping onto your fingers as you place your forehead against his chest.

“What’s wrong?” He asks in the softest of voices and with a wistful sigh, you wish it were the only voice you’d ever hear for the rest of your life.

You relish in his gentle touch, reminded that you’d never feel it again after your engagement. It was a solemn thought that only urged the tears clinging to your lower lashes to fall. You pressed yourself tighter against him, your hands slipping from his as you snaked your arms around his waist. You couldn’t bring yourself to speak, only offering a meek shake of your head against his chest as a response. 

You were being undeniably desperate for his affection and despite your shameless act, you couldn’t bring yourself to tear away from him.

He tenderly calls your name and sensing your anguish, he slightly pushes you away but still holds you close enough to cup your tear stained cheeks in the palms of his hands. He gazes at you with a rare look of affection, one you'd usually have to catch him off guard to see and although you would have normally teased him for it, you couldn't bring yourself to think of anything other than the fact that it might be the last look you'd ever see from him again. It frightened you to think of a future where he wasn't present and though the two of you entered this relationship knowing that nothing more would come from it other than sharing secret kisses behind closed doors and looks of longing across ballroom floors, you still hoped for something _more._

"I'm. . ." You faltered as your hands rose to grab at his wrists though you made no move to pry his hands away from your face. You stared back up at him, eyes quickly moving across his face as if you were attempting to memorize each and every detail from his citrine golden eyes to the cute pout he naturally wore on his lips. "Last night father delivered the news of my engagement. . ."

At your words his eyes visibly dimmed in brightness and although his expression gave nothing of his disappointment away, you could still sense it in the subtleties of his actions. His gentle grip on your cheeks loosened and you intertwined your fingers with his as you lowered both your hands. 

". . .Who is it?" He whispered, eyelids lowering over golden eyes to express his concealed heartache. 

You're reluctant to tell him, worried that your answer would do nothing more than serve to hurt him. As if anticipating your hesitancy, he squeezed your hand as an act of assurance. You pause for a moment longer as you nervously nibbled at your bottom lip. Your gaze lowers away from his in favor of staring down at your intertwined hands.

“Prince Sumeragi,” You finally say after some thought. “That’s who I’m marrying.”

You weren’t sure what you were expecting when you finally told him the identity of your fiancé. Maybe you thought he’d leave, sparing you the pain of a goodbye by making you wish there _was_ one in the first place, yet he did nothing of the sort. You even thought he’d be a little mad for essentially forcing him into this relationship knowing that he could never make you his through marriage. Instead of sharp words or an unfinished farewell, he pulled you back into an embrace before burying his face into the crook of your neck.

“Will this be the last time I see you?” He mumbles against the skin of your neck and you bite harder down on your lip to keep yourself from breaking down right then and there.

“I hope not.” It’s the only guarantee you could promise and as much as you wish you could offer more, you weren’t too hopeful for the future. “The royal family uses their own personal tailor and besides. . . continuing this when I become princess would be too dangerous for you.”

You paused, pushing him off you to take his face into your hands. “They’ll _kill_ you.”

Your brows furrowed as your gaze searched his. The possibility of his death had yet to occur to you until that very moment when you’d given it more thought. If there were any rumors that were to surface or even the prince catching wind of the unusual amount of time you spent with your tailor, he’d have Yuki executed for even the suspicion of seducing the prince’s consort.

It broke your heart to see his expression shift to dismay and then eventually melancholy when your words sunk in. This would be the last time you’d see each other and the last time you’d be able to hold each other so intimately without the fear of horrendous repercussions. You wished your parting could have been on better terms. You would have preferred it if the situation were reversed. While it would have been painful to see Yuki fall in love with someone else who wasn't you, you wouldn’t ever have to deal with the painful curiosity of wondering _when_ he’d move on. Now, you were stuck with never finding out.

“This will be your last dress for me, so make it your best work.”

You attempted to smile at him though it quivered and mixed with your teary eyes, it appeared more sad than anything. He looked no different from you. Crystalline tears rolled gently down his reddened cheeks and the golden gaze you adored was obscured with longing.

“Of course.” He pulled you closer once more, circling his thin arms around your waist as he brought his lips to yours.

The last kiss you shared tasted salty. A remnant of his grief for a love that could never blossom.


	7. Hyoudou Juuza

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lost in a dense forest with no memory of who or what you are, leaves a specially made void in your heart. Why do you have distant memories of something you cannot recall?
> 
> yokai au 2/??

Within the dark of the surrounding forest and among the thick foliage, there’s a piercing stare you could feel prickling the back of your neck. You could never catch just who or _what_ was staring at you so intently as each time you turned around to glance over the area, the feeling would suddenly disappear and there would be no one in sight.

Goosebumps rose up along the length of your exposed arms at the thought of you not being alone in this forest as you once assumed. You found yourself regretting ever wandering from Misumi’s side when he so clearly warned you of the dense forest’s tendency to lure in the lost.

_“The beings here are attracted to the souls of the lost, especially voiceless ones like you.” His tone was oddly serious, a direct contrast to the playfulness lilt it usually held. “If you’re not careful, your soul will be devoured.”_

While you weren’t stupid enough to ignore a warning, the thing that drew you deeper into the mysterious forest and caused you to follow it without much convincing was a voice that called out to you. Its tone was strangely familiar and the moment you set your sights upon the distant tree line and discovered someone standing at its edge, you couldn’t control your curiosity and followed them deeper into the foliage. 

You _knew_ that person, you were sure of it, yet your memories failed to provide the answer you so desperately sought. 

Throughout your seemingly endless wandering, you never once again saw that strange figure nor could you find your way back to the main path where you separated from Misumi at. You were utterly alone with nothing but the moon to light your way and the sounds of wildlife to accompany you. The gentle breeze that picks up, swaying both the surrounding trees and your loose clothing, you could distantly hear the sound of creeping footsteps. The snapping of twigs was the first dead giveaway of an unexpected stranger and when you whip around towards the source of the disturbance, you’re greeted with the ghastly sight of a being far bigger than yourself. 

You staggered back, feet clumsily tripping over one another as your hands collapsed behind you to take the brunt force of your fall, though you never once broke contact with the monster before you. It looked nothing close to human. Its eyes were so far sunken into its skull that they appeared to be nothing more than abyssal black holes and the mouth that stretched across its large face was lined with rotted teeth; forming an eerie smile you wished nothing more than to look away from. Its gangly long arms loomed at its sides and bony fingers were poised to grab at you the moment you’d decide to flee.

Your body froze, eyes widening and lips trembling as silent pleas for help were lost among the moonlit breeze. At its rapid approach, your arms shook as you shielded yourself and along with the haze of your fear your eyes tightened to a close.

In the next several seconds, you expected to feel a lot of things; one of them mainly being the pain of a gruesome death followed by the regret of not doing more to spare yourself such a pathetic end. Yet, nothing of the sort fell upon you. 

The sensation of something warm splattering across your skin prompted you into slowly cracking open your eyes. Thick, dark red liquid coated the surface of your arms and a bit of your cheeks with a sheen that glinted ominously in the moonlight. Your face contorted with a look of horror as you peered down at the blood running down the length of your arms. The scent it emitted was incredibly rancid and the strength of its stench burned the inside of your nose and irritated your eyes to the point of tears.

Through the haze of your blurry sight, you lowered your arms to behold the appearance of your supposed savior. With his back turned towards you, he _looked_ human enough in comparison to the now decapitated monster he slayed right before you. Your gaze trailed towards the long silver edged katana he wielded, watching as the strange dark colored blood dipped from its tip before being absorbed by the earth below. Several moments passed, bringing along a silence that felt just as tense and suffocating as the encounter the monster wrought.

“Are you okay?” His voice was silky smooth and as deep as the eternal night sky above your head. It instilled a sense of ease within you, a comfort most welcomed after a terrifying experience.

Your gaze trailed up from the bloodied sword as your savior slid it back into its scabbard with a resounding click. The moment your widened gaze met his, you were once again reminded that not everything in this world was as it seemed. 

Black horns protruded from his forehead, curling inwards with sharp ends that would undoubtedly prove dangerous should you ever touch them. His violet colored hair, although neatly combed back, still possessed a stray strand that nestled between his horns and against his forehead. His eyes were what held a semblance of familiarity to you. Their color almost mirrored the same bright hue as Misumi’s, though where his was bright with a tinge of mischief; the stranger’s was a deep golden that held an odd warmth. 

While his gaze was undeniably sharp and paired with the natural frown he bore, you would have mistaken him as another being out for your life if it weren’t for the fact that he saved from a fate worse than death. With a meek nod of your head, you pressed your hands closer to your chest if only to stop their uncontrollable shaking. The terrifying encounter replayed repeatedly within your mind and each blink was accompanied by the frightful image of that monster reaching out towards you with an eerie lipless smile. 

“You’re one of the lost, aren’t you?” 

Despite the recollection of similar words being spoken by Misumi, you were somewhat surprised to see the golden-eyed stranger crouched before you. His sword was now strapped around his chest and you could see it’s black and white woven handle peeking out from over his shoulder. His lips were steadied into a firm line and when he took notice of your anxious disposition, his intense gaze softened. 

After realizing his subtle change in demeanor, you could feel yourself relaxing now that he wasn't staring at you like you were his enemy. Your hands dropped to your lap, brows furrowing as your eyes fell from his. You offered another nod to his pressing question. 

Your persistent silence seemed to have given him flash of revelation that noticeably passed across his face. With a gentle sigh and minute shake of his head, he rose back to his full height before offering a hand out to you.

“Voiceless lost like you aren’t supposed to be wandering around this place without a guide.” He said as you shakily placed your hand in his. “How you even got this far without being devoured is a miracle.”

He easily pulled you up from the ground, though his grasp on you never left and instead you felt yourself being suddenly lifted in the air. With a silent yelp you clung to his chest, hands tightly bunching the fabric of his robes as one of his arms adjusted under the crease of your legs, and the other supported your back. You gazed up at him with curiosity, the silent question of _‘what are you doing?’_ hanging in the air.

His expression gives nothing of his intentions away and he merely responds as if the answer was obvious. “It’s easier for both of us this way. Now you won’t have the opportunity of wandering off again.”


End file.
